


Knows No Bounds

by SimplyInsatiable



Series: Father Knows Best [1]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Breeding, Come Eating, Come Inflation, Demon Heats, Drama, Father/Son Incest, First Time, Knotting, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Post-Canon, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23340784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyInsatiable/pseuds/SimplyInsatiable
Summary: "A father's love knows no bounds."Nero enters his first heat at the most inopportune time. Luckily, Vergil knows exactly what his son needs, as is his duty.
Relationships: Dante/Vergil (mentioned), Nero/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Series: Father Knows Best [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680166
Comments: 23
Kudos: 266





	Knows No Bounds

**Author's Note:**

> Hoo Boy, this thing is a MONSTER. Would you believe I started writing this cursed story all the way back in April of 2019?
> 
> Well, I got the time now, so here it is, you depraved fucks.
> 
> I am planning a sequel to this which will involve all THREE of the Sparda boys, so be on the lookout for that;) 
> 
> unbeta'd, I'd appreciate any typos or edits be pointed out directly to me. Thanks!

“...Nero? Nero are you paying attention?”

“...Y-yeah, of course. Keep going.”

A frown pulled at Vergil's lips, fingers idling on the hilt of his beloved katana as he took in his son's absent stare.

“Is that so? Then you should have no trouble repeating back to me what I just said.”

Nero can feel the sweat dripping down his face, and it is not simply from his father's request, he has been absolutely _drenched_ all morning, his skin an inferno that does not relent even to the iciest of showers. And to make matters worse, it's like he can _feel_ every nerve ending in his body. 

“Uh...well…” He winces, his brain hardly able to _function_ already, let alone supply a decent enough answer to placate the older man.

After another minute of his struggling, his father sighed.

“You asked for this training, Nero, a request you realize that I do not take lightly. Iaijutsu is a highly disciplined form of fighting, unlike the mindless berserker frenzy you and your uncle seem to favour.” Vergil admonishes, with a tsk.

“I...I understand that--”

“Then you'd do well to actually _listen_ when I speak, and not stare off into space.”

Oh, Nero was listening all right, it was just not to the _actual words_ Vergil was saying. Instead, his sick mind was telling him to hone in on the timbre of the older man's gravelly voice, the sound causing a shiver down his spine.

Something was truly wrong with him today, and he really did not know why. All week his body had been getting increasingly more sensitive to external stimuli, especially when it came from the man in front of him or even his uncle. At first he thought he might have caught something on his last job, but Nico's research indicated that no such side effect could be caused by any type of known demon attack.

Then he began to notice the heat as it spread from his lower body all the way to his head, but definitely concentrated in his….well, pelvic region. He had thought about asking Dante if this was normal, because there was no way in Hell he was going to bring this up with his father, but even then he felt too embarrassed. Knowing Dante, he would just open his big mouth and tease him without actually helping anyways.

Now he wished he had, because over the past hour he had spent in this room with his father, it had gotten dangerously worse, and he was starting to think it had something to do with his rare proximity to the older man.

The training room was stifling on a good day inside the _Devil May Cry_ shop, but today it was absolutely _sweltering_. There was very little in the way of furniture inside this glorified storage room, but there were some mats, a lone shelf housing a record player, a ratty old couch and a weapon rack that held various bits and bobs, including many weapons he'd never seen Dante even touch, but were clearly demonic in nature. The ceiling fan above them made another sad rotation around its axis, only moving hot air around and nothing more. Everything in this forsaken place was old, broken or both, which is perhaps why Vergil always seemed to stick out like a sore thumb. 

He carried himself in a regal manner, head held high and his shoulders straight, always clothed in fineries that looked like they belonged on models from Paris, such a contrast to Dante's slouched stance and pizza stained loungewear that Nico once called ‘Hobo chic’. Though the twins looked alike, Vergil's face maintained its youthful glow, save for the barely noticeable crow’s feet pulling around his large icy grey irises, and the barest hints of stubble dusting his otherwise clean-shaven cheeks. Nero hopes he'd age even half as gracefully as his ethereal father, but one thing was for certain, he'd definitely never obtain his height. Vergil _towered_ over most, standing at a near 2 meters. He was at least 5 inches taller than Nero's hardly modest 6 foot stature, and he even had a little edge on his twin, though Dante always tried to chalk it up to his hair and heels.

Even now he could see that Vergil was purely muscle, his broad arms and solid chest straining through his signature coat that made Nero hotter just looking at him. How was he not suffocating? his vest was unzipped further down than usual, but otherwise, he was wearing the same amount of layers he always did. 

What he failed to notice was his father's expression getting increasingly more and more annoyed.

“Nero, for the last time--”

“I'm paying attention! I swear.”

“This is very unlike you. I expect this type of behaviour from Dante, but you…I had higher hopes.” The disappointment was palpable in his tone, and that sucker-punched the younger devil in the gut harder than he expected. He shouldn't be feeling guilty towards a man he owed nothing, but alas the idea of somehow failing his father made white-hot shame boil in the pit of his stomach.

Nero chose to say nothing and put his head down, willing the burn branding his insides to cease, but the more he focused on it, the more he failed.

Vergil took a few light steps closer to his son, the Yamato still within his left hand. At this distance Nero could smell him, his scent a culmination of sandalwood and a tangy spice he could not recognize but also laced with something that was purely demonic, something he recognized in himself, solidifying that they shared the same blood.

He smelled...amazing, and he was mortified at the prospect of him getting aroused by his scent. 

“Perhaps we should try a different approach. I find our family learns best by doing anyways.” Vergil circled his son, removing his sword elegantly from the sheath, and placed it in Nero's slack palm. His strong hand gripped Nero's wrist tightly, ensuring he was holding it in the correct position and the young devil hunter's heart rate spiked to unseen levels. He'd faced hundreds of demons, and never did they put him in such a state of anxiousness. 

Yamato felt different this time around. Despite having kept the weapon stored safely in his arm for years, she never quite spoke to him the way she did to his father. The metal hummed with an excited energy, singing a siren's song that was perhaps the last many heard. Vergil shifted behind Nero, positioning his son's arms till he was satisfied, and now it was Nero's flesh that began to sing. His touch quelled the heat like cold silk and he could have cried at the relief. 

  
  


"Relax, you are far too stiff. Rigidity will only make your movements less efficient.” 

Nero sucked in a gasp before it could part his dry lips when his father’s hand slid to the center of his chest, the other directly on his spine. He gently applied pressure to his third vertebrae until his son was curved into the right stance. A strange wave of pleasure erupted from within him, and he almost choked on how overwhelming it was.

“Hm. Stay like that. Now, I need you to widen your stance down here.” He tapped at Nero's thigh with his sheathe, and Nero almost bit through the skin of his lip. His hypersensitivity seemed to increase tenfold in the last five minutes and he didn't know how much longer he could stay here. 

  
  


“Keep your legs evenly apart, the left one slightly forward, toes pointed straight and perpendicular to Yamato’s kissaki, or the very tip.” 

“You can’t help yourself with the Japanese, can you?” He couldn't help but quip at his father’s expense.

The older man frowned, continuing to adjust Nero’s position until he was satisfied and the younger man wanted to scream from the sensory assault. “If you don’t use the proper name--”

“Then you will never do it properly, I know.” He finished with an eye roll, recalling every single instance in which Vergil brought this up over the past two months he had been in his life. 

“...Precisely. so cease your griping and pay attention.” He repeats, more subdued.

Those hands made their way around Nero's waist, raising gooseflesh the instant they made contact, even through Nero's t-shirt. He tried not to squirm away, for his perceptive father would definitely sense that something was amiss, but the longer he endured this unintentional assault, the more he feared he would do something truly embarrassing.

“Keep your core strong. This is where the brunt of your attack force will come from, not just your limbs. The first samurai discovered that heavy reliance on arm strength alone tires you out considerably faster.”

Vergil pressed on the very center of his stomach and Nero felt so weak he almost let Yamato slip.

_Oh fuck old man, please stop_ , _before I do something truly fucking embarrassing._

It was at that moment that his cock decided to join in on the “let's fuck Nero over” party. The minor ministrations from Vergil's hands coupled with this mysterious rush of hormones had the unfortunate consequence of leaving him hard and straining.

_Too late. This is as embarrassing as it gets._ He didn't know If he wanted to cry, scream or kill himself. 

“You feel right where my hand is?”

_Oh, more than you know._ “Yup.” He grits out.

“ _This_ is where you have to pull all your strength from. It is no different than classically trained singers. All the air and power comes from the diaphragm, never the throat itself.”

“Yeah uh, great. Maybe we should move on to actual attacks now, father.” He tried to hide the urgency in his tone, praying to all the deities he knew including his dear old grandpa that his father stayed standing behind him.

Vergil remained silent for a beat, finally pulling away from his son and Nero could have cried in relief. The demon inside him, however, was angry at the loss of contact.

“Oh, really? And where do you have to run off to in such a hurry?”

“What do you mean--”

“ I am not oblivious, child. I can tell that this is the last place you want to be, but we have an obligation to each other to see this through… as father and son.”

Great, now he was getting all philosophical. He'd never get out of here once Vergil started his tangent. He needed to put an end to this before it could start.

“No, dad. That's really not it. I _want_ to be here, it's just that I--”

His reassurances were silenced by his father tsking at him.

  
  


“No no no. Don't try to explain yourself. Listen to me son...” His expression suddenly softened, grabbing Nero by the shoulders in a rare instance of fatherly affection that could not have occurred at a more inopportune time. The sudden jolt of pressure that spiked low in his belly threatened to make his knees buckle.

Vergil bit into his plump lower lip, attempting to find the words he often struggled with. His eyes searched for Nero's perhaps as a form of communicating what could not be spoken, but the younger man refused to meet his gaze, instead, he craned his neck downward to the floor. He hoped he did not come off as a petulant child, but he feared that if he looked into those clear icy irises so similar and yet so different from his own, he would just melt away into an incoherent mess. He could see the bulge in his jeans, painfully tight in his briefs and desperate for any relief. He made a weak attempt at pulling on his shirt, and just hoped Vergil never needed to lower his gaze.

“...I am sure you have noticed, but I am not the best at expressing my true feelings…” He began, his tone so uncertain Nero could hardly believe it was coming from the other's mouth.

He could now feel the heat crawling up his abdomen and it felt like it was burrowing a hole straight through his stomach, gnawing at his nerve endings and wanting release. His mind was growing hazy and that was not good. Why did his father smell so delicious all of a sudden? It was making drool build up in the back of his throat that he discreetly tried to swallow. He clenched his fists and his eyes shut, hoping for any distraction to just waltz in through the door and demand his father's attention so he could escape unscathed.

“Th-that's one way to put it.” It was a weak comeback but all his clouded brain could manage, 99% of his brain cells were wondering what Vergil's skin tastes like and he was mortified beyond belief. He had to be possessed or something. 

Vergil shot him a look to indicate he was not amused “However...I will do my utmost to further my relationship with you, as it is only right, but I need to see that you are willing to reciprocate these efforts.”

The struggling boy nodded, and then almost screamed as a wetness trickled out of a place it should not have. He went stone still, cringing inwardly and burning a hot pink as he felt it drip out onto his briefs in an alarming amount. 

“Nero…” his voice was stern but thoughtful. 

Nero struggled to find his vocal cords. “y-yeah?”

“Am I wasting my time?” 

The question was so genuine that it threw him for a loop. He hid his vulnerability well, as you could barely pick it out from his annoyed tone, but the softness of his brow and the quiet way he ended his question gave him away. 

Nero had never desired something so badly in his life. Something was truly wrong with him, but his mind was telling him he might just die if he didn't do something about it.

“Father, I-” 

Before an assurance could be made, a sharp pain pierced his guts like a blade, digging into his organs with incredible force. He let out an agonized yelp, collapsing to the mat instantly as his muscles seized up in response. 

Vergil bent down so that he was eye level with his son, a panicked expression on his face.

“Nero! What is the matter?!”

“H-hurts, father! I...I don't know what--” He cried pathetically, clutching his sides. 

  
  


Vergil reached for his spasming shoulders, turning him on his back so he could scan his son for injuries, his brows knitting together when he found none. Nero's moans at his contact were reminding him of something from a long time ago however, like the mere sound had turned a key and unlocked a forbidden, yet _delectable_ memory. 

He sniffed the air, and his eyes widened. 

“Oh, dear boy. You've entered your heat haven't you?”

“My-my what?”

Vergil pulled back, and it took all of Nero's willpower not to whine. “Curious. The fact that you held out this long is quite amazing actually.”

“Doesn't answer...the question, father.”

“ I'll explain as concisely as I can. Demons do not possess genders in the same way humans do, instead, they have subcategories that exist in a hierarchical order--”

“Too many words.”

Vergil fought the urge to shoot an incredulous look at the suffering boy, but he placated him nonetheless. 

“Your body is telling you to mate, son. And by the looks of it, you want to mate with me.”

“Wha-What?!” Before he could protest further, Nero released a relieved sigh as large fingers wrapped around his jaw, thumbs soothing the skin under his chin. The idea of hands that have killed so many, gently caressing him like he was precious was enough to send shockwaves to his brain. 

“Do not worry, I will take _very good_ care of you.” His father almost whispered, the icy pools of his eyes melting considerably as his fingers slid down the column of Nero's neck to rest on his heart. Fuck, the way he was looking at him with all the attentiveness in the world should be illegal. A completely traitorous thought wondered if this is how his goddamn mother felt when they--

“Oh my God, this is so wrong on so many levels.”

Vergil merely rolled his eyes.

“Nonsense, it is completely normal for demons to crave a blood relative as a mate, it is how you keep the bloodline pure after all. It is only humans who have hang-ups about such things.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

“Oh calm down, it’s not like you can _actually_ be bred anyway, you're too human for that.” That was a concerningly casual spoken string of words.

“So, are you telling me, if I was your _daughter…”_

“Perhaps it’s best to not dwell so much on that idea.”

Nero blanched. “Demons are fucking gross.”

Vergil laughed, a sultry sound that broke something inside the young man. 

“Maybe so, but this has to be done, whether you like it or not. I will ensure it is a more than pleasurable experience, however. You can trust me on that." If Vergil had winked in that moment it wouldn't have felt out of place. A world where a father is bragging about his sexual prowess to the son he is about to use it on is a fucked up world and Nero's demon _sings_ at the depravity of it all. 

Vergil's expression softened, his hands returning to cradle his son's sweat-drenched face. Nero questioned what he was thinking, but then those cupid’s bow lips met his own.

It started out lightly, a barely-there pressure that coaxed Nero to reciprocate it, and he eventually did, melting into this forbidden embrace just the way his body wanted him to. He opened his mouth and Vergil's tongue swept its way in, the strong muscle massaging against Nero's own, never trying to overpower, only to subdue. It was so very strange and fucked up, yet Nero did not possess the energy to care, all he wanted was more. There was a tightening in his abdomen as more of that strange liquid rushed out of him. Vergil must have sensed this, for he suddenly growled, clutching on to his son possessively and devouring his mouth further.

“Father,” he said between breaths, “ I-I need--” 

“Shh.” Vergil soothed, caressing his cheeks. “I know what you need.”

  
  


Before he knew it, he was being lifted back on his feet by one powerful arm, and half-carried to the worn sofa that was about to get a few more scars in its leather. He was placed sitting up, his thighs being spread apart by his father's knee as he towered over him. As he looked up at him, Nero could really feel the sense of power and dominance Vergil possessed. It was almost overwhelming, but it also made him feel surprisingly safe.

Vergil grinned down haughtily at him, his smile infused with more mischief than Nero thought the stoic man was even capable of. “I am going to give you _exactly_ what you need, child," He chuckles, leaning up so that Nero could feel his hot breath against the reddening shell of his ear.

"I am going to _wreck_ you.” a single nip at the writhing hunter's ear punctuated his promise. 

“Oh fuck.” if Nero wasn't wet before, he was positively _dripping_ now.

Vergil did not hesitate, his knee pressed on the juncture of his thighs, grinding into his arousal with slow, deliberate circles. Nero moaned, the pressure so good and yet not close to being enough. He could feel his wetness seeping through his pants from where his father was rubbing and he flushed hot with shame, like a child who just wet the bed. The elder did not seem to mind however, instead listening to all the cries of pleasure being released from his son's desperate mouth.

Vergil lifted his chin, studying his son's exquisitely tortured expression with much intrigue.

“ How long have you suffered like this, my child?” He questioned softly, his fingers working to pull Nero's shirt high enough to expose his stiff nipples and glistening chest that was heaving uncontrollably. 

Nero swallowed, throat suddenly dry despite the saliva buildup that never ceased.“A-a week. Got worse today...ah!” a wet tongue attached itself to his right nipple, playing with the sensitive nub until it was an angry red. 

“I see.” His father hummed through his laving, making little sounds that pricked at Nero's ear just right.

“My proximity to you must have sped things along.” He wondered absentmindedly as he suddenly slid to the floor in front of the sofa. Anticipation filled Nero's gut and his cock throbbed in need. He pulled Nero's thighs apart until he could comfortably settle between them, looming over Nero who was still getting drunk on his intoxicating scent. After abusing the other nipple until it matched its twin, Vergil licked his way down Nero's sensitive chest, down the middle of his abs and stopping for a short trip to his navel. 

Nero covered his mouth, fingernails digging into the skin of his cheek when Vergil dipped that sinful tongue into his belly button. His thrusts were shallow, but the young devil hunter swore he was pressing on something inside of him, he could feel it all the way to his cock. 

“Guh! Please!” 

“What do you need, little one?” Vergil said it so lovely and genuinely that it filled a gaping void in Nero he didn't know he had.

“fff-you! Need you!” He demanded, his heat growing more and more unbearable by the minute. He needed to be bred soon, or he was going to die was what his lizard brain supplied. His leaking hole started to twitch as his frenzy grew stronger.

“And you shall have me. Just be a good boy for a _little_ longer. Can you do that for me, Nero?”

The beast inside him whimpered but was compelled to listen to the elder’s command. It was like he was under a spell, his body submitting to every request Vergil had, wanting nothing more than to please him. It was an intoxicating feeling just as much as it was terrifying. 

“Yes... f-father!”

Vergil grinned with barely hidden pride. “Good boy.” he cooed, his words enunciated with a delicate squeeze to Nero's weeping cock and he mewled.

Vergil relished in his reaction, his pupils dilating to narrow slits like a serpent about to strike its helpless prey.

“Having you spread out like this, begging for my care, takes me back. Your uncle was desperate for me too, and he was an insatiable little brat.”

Nero's eyes widened, his horny brain conjuring an image of the two together, all teeth and blood and sweet sweet sex. 

“I wonder how you will compare.”

A dark part of Nero did not want to be compared to his uncle; wanted to wipe the man entirely from his father's mind. Vergil was with _him_ now, he should not be speaking about anyone else. God this heat was making him a jealous little bitch, about his own flesh and blood no less. 

He was drawn out of his existential musing by the sound of his fly being unzipped. 

He looked down in time to see Vergil pull his loose pants and boots off in one fluid motion, laces and all. Nero couldn't help but compare the action to a magician pulling a tablecloth from under a full wine glass without spilling a drop. 

Vergil inspected the newly uncovered flesh and it made the younger flush to be scrutinized with such intensity. 

“My my, you have produced quite a lot of slick haven't you? You are truly at your limit then.” 

His briefs were tugged down and off before he could even process the meaning behind Vergil's words. His cock slapped against his stomach as it was finally free and leaking copious amounts of precum. The head was so swollen and severe it looked almost purple, the younger wasn't sure if that was a normal reaction or not, well none of this was even _remotely_ normal, but he meant within the context of his “heat”. His strong thighs were spread further, warm large hands holding them up as his father’s gaze travelled lower to his virgin hole. Nero had never felt so exposed in life, and every single instinct was telling him to close his legs, but between Vergil's strong grip and these bitch hormones wishing to get his ass filled as soon as possible, his dignity was lost. 

Vergil licked his lips subconsciously as he continued studying that leaky opening and Nero's brain almost short circuited again. 

“How to put this son…" Vergil scratched at his chin, "... Has anyone ever--”

“What? Fucked me in the ass?”

Vergil raised an elegant eyebrow at his choice of words. “...I wasn't going to say it quite as crassly, but yes.”

“No...b-but I have--”

“Played with yourself?”

“I-I wasn't sure how to say it in an un-crass way, so thanks for sparing me that one.”

Vergil hummed, massaging at his inner thighs and allowing for _wonderful_ stimulation that made his hole clench and unclench rapidly. He flushed a further red when he noticed his father's unabashed focus on those involuntary movements, like a researcher studying a test subject and recording all the little changes, except _way hornier_.

"Even still...you are inexperienced. I must prep you."

A large index finger slowly circled around his wet pucker and Nero squirmed with the foreign sensation, his toes curling and his teeth gritted. Vergil could not hide his smirk this time, reveling in being able to see his son's high, impenetrable walls come crashing down. 

"Strange, I didn't take you for the submissive type. Not that I'm complaining. I get to see you Come undone so beautifully….it's almost a privilege." 

_Fuck_. He's always been a slut for praise, and somehow (probably obviously) Vergil was able to pick up on this particular kink. Perhaps the scarier answer was that Vergil was saying that because he actually meant it, not simply just to rile him up.

His finger massaged that tight hole for a little while longer, pulling pants and whines from the poor boy beneath him. He ceased his circling and slightly pushed in, making Nero buck into it, immediately wanting it deeper. Vergil had no choice but to oblige, sinking into the warm wetness with ease and mesmerized at how that hole was trying to greedily milk him. His boy was desperate for cock, it was maddening, and more than a little addicting. Vergil would have to be careful not to get hooked.

"Such a good boy you are being, Nero. Taking my finger so well. Do you want more?" God, he doesn’t think he has ever heard his father talk so sensually, his tone low and almost deprived. It's delicious. 

The devil hunter could barely find his voice, all his energy and focus zeroing in on that foreign yet delightful sensation. He lets out a little whimper, hips gyrating, trying to suck that thick digit in right where he needs it.

Vergil tsks, bringing his other hand up to secure his son's lower half in admonishment. 

"Patience, child. All good things come to those who wait." His other hand massaged those swollen balls while a second finger immediately entered along the first, scissoring the tight rim until it had more give. Nero thrashed wildly, unable to compute the sensations of his sack and hole being given so much attention simultaneously. 

"Hmmm...I think I am spoiling you," Vergil observes, fingers now pumping steadily in and out of his son while his other hand rolls those sensitive balls. " You didn't even say 'please'. Perhaps I should be less generous."

"No!" Nero keens at the slightest hint of his father slowing his pace. 

"Then prove to me you deserve it." The fingers slipped out with an obscene squelch and the fondling also ceased. Nero wanted to slam his fist into that quite frankly _too_ controlled expression but he has no choice but to heed his request.

Nero was already flushing with embarrassment before he even opened his mouth.

" ...Please."

"Oh?" He still didn't budge and Nero bit down a frustrated scream. He knew what the man wanted to hear. The second lesson they had together came to mind: _Always read your opponent, for they are an open book who will tell you their weakness._ Nero was certain that he figured out his father's by now. 

His old man liked to feel _needed_ above all else, which is why he was so damn persistent about these iaijutsu lessons. It was a way for him to provide for his son, as Nero was pretty self-sufficient and really didn't rely on anybody these days, which only made bonding all the more difficult for them. Well, until now that is.

Perhaps this constant desire to be important, to be needed stems from an unresolved trauma with his mom leaving him behind, or whatever the fuck else, but it was a literal goddamn pain in Nero's ass right now and he didn't care for that shit at _all_.

He steeled himself; swallowed all his pride and looked directly into his father's ice blue eyes. 

"...Please. please father! Help me through this! I _need_ you so fucking bad!" And to prove his throbbing need, he hiked his knees up, spread his quaking thighs wider and pulled at the edges of his already dripping asshole, presenting himself utterly and thoroughly to the only person who could satiate this endless craving. 

His father went as still as stone. The only evidence that he had been affected by his son’s depraved plea was the intense colour shift to his eyes; they were aglow like flashes of blue lightning. Nero all but pouted, hating that his efforts had gone to waste...but that couldn't be farther from the case.

Vergil was spellbound. Licking his lips as his only warning, his devilish tongue went straight for that swollen, weeping hole.

“Ffffuuuck.” Nero keened, struggling to hold himself open as that hot tongue swirled around his asshole deliciously, tasting every inch and diameter it could reach. 

Without stopping his mouth, Vergil slowly took off his coat and vest, revealing those muscled arms and rippling abs that Nero had seldom ever seen, but knew they were there. How else could he have launched Nero like a tennis ball the first time they met, even though he was decrepit as shit? When the task was done, his hands returned to those pale thighs, massaging them at the same time he was holding them down, ceasing those bucking hips. Nero huffed in frustration, but all was forgiven the moment his father began thrusting deeper, humming as if he was tasting the most delicious treat, and not his own son’s asshole. 

He was getting tongue-fucked by his own flesh and blood. That’s a thought that stays with you, and he didn’t even care. His hands traveled down to stroke his neglected cock, but they were harshly batted away. Nero glanced down in anger and was met with the intense azure gaze of his father, still diligently eating him out and giving pleasured hums as he did it. Any annoyance Nero had towards his action bled out of him immediately and his eyes rolled back in his head as that tongue extended, actually fucking _extended,_ and pressed repeatedly against his prostate. 

He felt wetter than before,and not just from the saliva smearing around his hole, he was somehow producing more of that 'slick' as Vergil called it and he was nearing his limit.

"I'm...I'm almost there father." He whined, his voice raising several embarrassing pitches. Apparently this was the wrong thing to say, as Vergil immediately pulled away, licking his wet lips and fingers. Nero wanted to cry.

"Mmm, as much as I'd love for you to come on my tongue, I would much rather it be my cock the first time we do this."

The implication of repeat performances was something that hadn't crossed Nero's mind before, he had assumed this was a one-time deal. Clearly Vergil thought otherwise and his cock gave a little jolt despite itself. 

Nero was so lost in his own head, that he didn't notice Vergil push three large fingers in him all at once until it was too late. He couldn't hold back his scream of tortured pleasure.

"Would you like that, hm?" He whispered in Nero's reddened ear in a deceptively sweet tone. "Do you want to come on my cock?" 

God that sounded like the best idea ever. Nero could only nod vigorously,

"Then turn around, bend over, and you will get what you crave."

Nero had never moved so fast in life. He scrambled up on the couch lengthwise, sweaty hands gripping the armrest as he pushed his ass out and spread his thighs wider.

Vergil gripped his son's asscheek, pulling it apart further to admire the slight gape of that stretched hole. An unexpected smack came next and Nero could not suppress his pleasured whine, loathe to admit how it turned him on.

"Interesting. Something to explore for another time." The dark promise made Nero shiver. 

"Now, however, I believe I have teased you _far_ too long. Forgive your cruel father, Nero." Vergil embellished his apology by massaging down Nero's exposed spine.

Nero grunts, ears perking up at the sound of fabric rustling. He desperately wants to see the instrument that will be used in his own wrecking, and also the fact that any exposed part of his beautiful father is a feast for the eyes, but the insistent hand at the back of his neck pins his head in place. 

"But trust me,” He continues, “ Once you come, it will be all the more _sweeter_." He licked the back of Nero's creamy neck the exact moment he plunges that girthy cock all the way in.

It's pure bliss. His bitch of a demon is singing the instant his breeding hole is filled.

**_We are complete_ **

it supplies to Nero, and the devil hunter can barely comprehend the meaning of that when it feels like his entire cerebellum was shattered by a single thrust of his father’s massive cock. Damn, mommy was one lucky bitch. 

“Relax, If you tense up like this, you’ll hurt yourself.” Vergil admonishes, staying completely still inside his son as he adjusts to the absolutely monstrous length currently coring him out. 

Nero somehow located his snarkiness in the broken pieces of his mind and huffs. “Easy for you to say, old man, you don’t got a giant cock the size of my forearm up _your_ ass.” 

Vergil’s amusement is palpable and he lets out a single chortle, the sound masculine and gravelly. “If you are still able to sass, then clearly I am not doing my job.”

The older demon pulls all the way out, before slamming back in all at once, his balls slapping against Nero’s ass. Nero’s entire back arches, his mouth falling open and completely alien sounds start tumbling out of his throat. A large hand threads through his hair and the younger’s eyes clench shut because it’s just _too much._

Those still-gloved fingers ran calming lines down his vertebrae and over the sides of his neck even as the eldest demon brother continued a steady pace _just_ on the right side of agonizing. Sweet murmurings that Nero could barely make out over the slick sounds of their fucking tickled his skin as Vergil brushed his lips over any place he could reach. The strong core muscles of his father’s chest and abdomen covering his entire back made the younger feel surprisingly safe and secure like something could attack them right now and they would survive completely unscathed.

**_Good mate. Good protector._ **His demon explained as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

_What?_ Was all Nero could conjure up in his pleasure-addled mind. He didn’t have time to unpack all that as Vergil started to hit his prostate with deadly accuracy. Each brush of that cock up against his special little spot was like utter euphoria and he hadn’t even orgasmed yet. 

“Yes! Fuck! So good!” 

Vergil hummed in agreeance, one hand coming around to pluck at Nero’s pink nipples as his thrusts became even faster. 

It was here that Nero felt his grip on reality slipping, like he was taking a backseat in his own mind, the demon coming out to play and digging its claws into every nerve ending he possessed. 

“Need....need to see you!” He suddenly pleaded, the urge overtaking him like nothing had before.

Vergil growled. “As you wish.”

He was manhandled until he was once again on his back and was finally able to gorge himself on the sight of his powerful father, king of the seven hells, between his open thighs and looking so utterly debauched. A few strands of hair had fallen free and were resting against his sweat-slick forehead, he was panting ever so slightly, broad chest heaving with the action, but his eyes were what captivated Nero the most. Still glowing blue and dangerous, there was so much depth to them, more than he had ever seen. Nero did that to him. There was no icy veneer to be found in sight, no careful composure, all was laid bare for Nero alone to drink in, and fuck, did he want to get drunk on it. 

  
  


A feather light touch to his cheek pulled him from his reverie. “Still with me, little one?” His father asked him with all the grace only a usurper of worlds could possess. 

Nero found his voice though he barely recognized it. “Yeah.”

Vergil gave a genuine smile, though mischief still tugged at the corners of his lips, for he was a Sparda. “Good.”

Nero tried to bite down his surprise as his legs were thrown over Vergil’s shoulders and he was once again entered, that cock buried to the hilt. Those deep thrusts resumed and Nero’s head hit the back of the armrest, hands scrambling for purchase and failing as his father hit a new angle that was even more delicious than the last. 

Vergil's lips returned to his and he absorbed all of his son's sweet little sounds as they emerged in an endless stream. Nero was addicted to the ambrosia he found on his father's tongue, exploring the depths of that sinful mouth as his hips gyrated faster, his inner muscles gripping that cock every time it entered him.

Vergil finally let out an indulgent moan, his attention turning towards the pale neck being presented to him which he languorously licked. 

"That's it. _That's_ it, my lovely boy, take what you need from me." He encouraged in a low tone and Nero could have came right then and there, something inside him pulling taut.

A strong hand wrapped around his neglected cock and began pumping with vigor. Nero bucked wildly, tongue lolling out of his mouth that Vergil happily met with his own. 

"My gorgeous boy, I'd give you the whole _universe_ if you asked."

Nero didn't think it was possible for him to flush further, but sure enough blood rushed to his face at that unexpected confession.

"Ngh! Don't stop! A-almost there!"

"Yeah? Ask of me Nero." His father’s tone was grave.

"A-ask what?"

"What do you need from me?"

That was perhaps the easiest question to answer in the world. 

"Fuck! Everything!"

Vergil chuckled darkly, his grip on Nero's cock becoming unbearable.

" _Then take it."_

The invisible string inside him finally snapped and the release that followed was like nothing else. His back arched off the sofa as the rush of beautiful heat coursed through his whole body in overwhelming intensity. His cum splattered against his abdomen, some hitting Vergil in the chest and God that was so fucking hot. 

**_Breed us! Breed us!_ **

His demon cried, once again leaving a fucked-out Nero completely baffled.

When he came to, his father hadn't ceased his fucking, and he fought the urge to squirm away from his building over-sensitivity. Nero whined as tears unwillingly rushed down his cheeks. 

"Shhh, I know, I know it's too much. Just a little bit longer." A soft tongue licked up those errant tears like a lion grooming its cub; It was oddly endearing as much as it felt strange. 

"Father…please." 

"Nero? What is it, greedy child?"

Nero locked eyes with his dear father and made his request of the damned. 

"Breed me."

Vergil cursed under his breath and then stilled inside his son, having folded Nero in nearly half as he surged forward. The memory of watching his beautifully restrained father finally succumb to his baser instincts and lose control would be burned into his membrane forever; His eyebrows knitting together as he rode out his orgasm, the clench of his jaw, and the guttural groan it ripped out of Vergil's elegant throat. It was almost as memorable as the first hot pulse of his father's seed deep inside his ruined hole. There was so much, It filled him up to the brim, the thick cum pooling beneath his ass and onto the couch. The effect was immediate; all the pain and uncontrollable need screaming at him to get his ass bred melted into the background of his brain until it was a mild hum. He couldn't stop himself from milking every last drop out of his father's cock, it was such an addicting feeling that he never wanted to end.

"Oh God...so fucking good." Nero sighed happily. "What is this like magic cum?" 

Vergil huffed a laugh between his panting breaths. "Might as well be."

Nero snorted, feeling great until Vergil started pulling out of his abused, sloppy hole. 

**_No!_ **

Well, his demon _really_ didn't like that. 

Lightning fast, he wrapped his legs around Vergil's back and kept him in place.

"Nero, no." He chided.

"What happened to your promise of giving me what I wanted?" Nero knew he was pouting like a petulant child, but his pride and dignity had left about 2 incestious acts ago. 

Vergil only sighed in exasperation. "This is different. I need to remove myself from you before--" 

"Holy shit!" Nero yelped as something large and bulbous emerged out of his father's still-hard cock and pressed right against his abused prostate.

"...before that occurs."

"What...what the fuck is that?"

"It's called a knot. When demons breed, the dominant one will produce a knot to ensure the seed inside their mate takes."

There's that word again. Mate. His demon rumbles gleefully upon hearing it.

Vergil resumes his attempt at removing himself but Nero only clamped down harder.

"Nero, for the love of--"

"I can take it."

"It will be too much."

"I know my limits. Besides the fucked-up bitchy demon in my head won't shut up if I don't keep this thing inside me."

Vergil takes a pause, eyes his son's determined glare and slightly slumps his shoulders in defeat.

"Stubborn needy brat. Just like your uncle."

Nero blushed, somehow that made him feel more shame then the globs of cum steadily dripping out of his ass. 

"Very well. We'll have to move on our sides however. The knot is going to lock me inside you for quite awhile."

Vergil eased himself down next to Nero on the already narrow loveseat, lifting the younger’s thigh so that it slotted over his own as his knot continued to grow to full size inside him. Nero for his part tried to control his breathing as he continued to be stretched to the absolute limit. Between the cum sloshing around in his inner walls and the massive knot, he could see his stomach becoming misshapen, the slight bulge more than a strange sight. 

**_Yeeeesss. His seed fills us! He must claim us!_ **

_What? What the fuck does that mean?_

He winced as Vergil prodded at his inflated stomach, massaging and pressing down until he could feel his own cock through the mass. 

“What a sight.” He mused, but his crystalline eyes had locked with Nero’s. “You’ve given me such a gift in this, I don’t think you realize.” 

**_Claim! Claim!_ **

God was this thing ever gonna shut up?  
  
“Y-you're welcome I guess.” Nero flushed a pretty pink.

They shared another deep kiss, relishing in the heat of each other’s mouths until Nero could once again feel his spent cock stirring. He used this time to explore the foreign planes of his father's body, flicking at his nipples, nibbling on his lips and jaw, and even slipping his hands underneath those tight leather-clad pants and grabbing fistfuls of that pert ass. 

Vergil growled at his ministrations, pulling Nero closer and causing his knot to jerk against that over-stimulated prostate once again. 

"Fuck, I don't think that thing is ever gonna go down." His exasperation was palpable.

  
  


"Give it time. And maybe if you stopped milking me like that-" a grunt as Nero spasms around him again, "Maybe it would feel inclined to go down."

Nero snorts. “Well shit. We’re gonna be here forever then.”

By some miracle, the next several minutes pass by and the knot recedes enough for Vergil to tug it loose. The rush of cum that follows stains Nero’s entire bottom half and most of the poor cushion under him. He wonders if he can convince his dear father to be the one to clean it up. 

His ass feels like it’s been pummelled into nothing and he fears the damage that has been done to the poor thing, he already expects his hole to be a gaping mess for a _while,_ even with his hyper healing. What he doesn’t expect, however, is the two fingers that slip easily inside him, churning out more of that cum as well as inspecting his inner walls thoroughly. It wasn’t painful, but he was swollen and the squelching sounds were more than a little embarrassing.

"Fuck! Are you for real, old man?"

"Apologies, "The slight smirk on Vergil's face proved that he was anything but sorry ," I merely wanted to assess the damage."

“And I couldn’t do that in the shower...on my own?"

Instead of wiping those soiled fingers on the nearest surface like a normal person, Vergil elected to suck them clean, making exagerated obscene noises only to fuck with his son, and boy, was he successful in that task.

“Mmmm, this required a more... _personal_ touch. I taste no blood, you’ll heal up nicely.” 

"Pfft, thanks for the diagnosis, pops."

Vergil hummed in response, pulling away from Nero only to resettle himself on top of the younger, his weight a welcome comfort to the newly bred demon. Nero was unabashedly content; cradled in his father’s welcoming embrace, nearly dozing off as that wet tongue cleaned his chest, neck and face as a primal form of bonding and grooming between a demon and its young. He could have remained curled up on the couch all day, purring at the gentle ministrations and riding out the rest of his heat...

  
  


...and then the voice inside his head started getting louder. Problematically so. 

**_Claim! We must become his! Bite!_ **

Fuck. He didn’t know why that sounded so enticing, but all of a sudden it was like his body was _screaming_ for it.

Nero sighed, eyes rolling back as his father began lapping at his throat, sometimes the teeth catching on the skin. 

“D-dad,” He panted. “Bite.” 

Vergil tilted his head to the side in confusion, much like a creature would. How fitting. 

"Bite!" He pleaded, stretching his neck out so all the delicate tendons and tender flesh was exposed. His father could see the blood coursing in those veins, just waiting to be tasted, to be gorged upon like the ripest fruit. It would be so easy, the poor thing practically _begging_ for it.

But Vergil resisted, keeping his fangs at bay, but only barely. 

"No Nero. This is where I draw the line."

The rejection hurt badly, worse than any stab wound, like his very soul had been pierced with the ice formed by Vergil’s words.

"What? Why?” Came the obviously pained question, anguish colouring the utterly confused tone of the young devil hunter. 

“It is an extremely bad idea.” 

Nero scoffed in disbelief, pulling himself up on the couch and away from his father. “ So you can come in my ass, but you can't--"

His airway was suddenly cut off by clawed fingers. This was a warning, he was crossing a line and he didn’t know why. 

"We can't. Trust me when I say you will not want this." He sounded angry, but there was a hint of melancholy in that aggravated tone.

Nero shook his head, unsure if the room was spinning because of the lack of air or the aftermath of that brutal rejection.

Nero just couldn't fathom his father's words. He had never wanted anything so badly in his life, how could Vergil possibly know he would regret it?

The elder demon could tell his son clearly wasn't getting the picture. He let out an exhausted sigh, but spoke the damning words nonetheless. 

"Think of Kyrie."

Oh.

That was the phrase that finally did it. Because in that moment, what terrified him was the fact that up until this point….he hadn't. Not once.

_Every single minute_ he had spent here in _Devil May Cry_ (and even some minutes prior) his mind had been obsessively tuned to his father.

His blood ran cold.

Vergil eyed him carefully, waiting for the realization to dawn on the younger’s face and released him from his tight grip. 

“Your demon wants me to claim you, I gather. But what you have to understand is that this is not an insignificant gesture. If I were to claim you, you would belong to me entirely. _No one_ would be able to have you, do I make myself clear?” 

To Nero’s credit, he did not have a mental breakdown as the haze of his breeding frenzy lifted from his mind, and the severity of what he had just done with his own fucking father started to sink in. No, there would be plenty of time for that later.

“So, that would mean--”  
  
Vergil nodded. “Exactly. Your relationship with Kyrie would be forfeit, and it would be dangerous to even consider continuing to devote yourself to her. My demon would perceive her as a threat to our claim, and you may even find yourself eventually rejecting her, for she is not your true mate.” 

Silence filled the room for a good moment. Vergil took this as Nero processing all the information he had just inherited. What was unexpected however was the loud, uncontrollable laughter suddenly spilling forward from his son’s lips.

When Nero finally ceased his misplaced laughter, he snarled. “I love how you are telling me this now.”

There was a pause. “There was no time before, Nero. I had to do what had to be done--”

“Fuck you.”

Vergil’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand your sudden animosity, child. Nor do I care for it.” 

The hunter guffawed, finally lifting himself off the couch, the scene of the crime, and squaring his haunches, a clear sign of aggression. 

“Oh? Oh really? You don’t understand? You don’t understand how fucking _pissed_ I am right now because I just did something incredibly fucking stupid without reading the fine print!?”

The elder growled, the action losing a bit of its intensity due to their combined cum splattered all over the front of his pants. 

“No, I cannot fathom why my petulant, selfish little son would recklessly let his heat go untreated for weeks to the point where we had to act immediately.”

_“Well im sorry_ ,” His voice was dripping with mock sincerity,“ I didnt know what the fuck was happening to me, so how could you possibly expect me to know what the fuck I was supposed to do?!”  
  
“You could have _asked._ ” Vergil bit out, the disappointment and melancholy had returned full force. 

Nero was taken aback, but he begrudgingly bit his tongue, placated for the time being.

Vergil looked down, breathing deeply in that way Nero only saw when he was in the midst of battle or after having a heated bout with Dante. “You could have gotten really hurt if we hadn't luckily had a training session scheduled today. And I think even more importantly to you, you could have hurt and even killed those dearest to you.”

Well, that changes things then. Nero tore his gaze away in shame. 

“I do apologize for never discussing the demon birds and the bees with you, but I had foolishly hoped you were too human to ever have to deal with this...I...I am sorry.” 

“It’s too late for that now...what’s done is done.” 

Pettiness was all he could resort to now, having been reduced to mere raw, tortured nerves several times today. He was exhausted, he was frustrated, and he was more than a little bitter. The young devil hunter turned away from his father, crouching over to gather all his discarded clothing and feeling utterly defeated and dirty. 

Vergil shifted in place, but made no argument with his son’s scathing rejection of his apology.

“Indeed…”

A shadow fell over Nero’s bent-over form, looming but not nearly close enough. 

“I see you want to be alone now, so I will leave you with this,” He began.

  
  


_“_ Everything we just did, every _ounce_ of pleasure you gained from solely my touch, is a part of you Nero. As _disgusted_ as you may be,” Venom seethed into every spoken word and it made Nero’s blood boil in more ways than one. 

“ And sooner or later,” The blue devil laughed cruelly, “It will be all you crave.”

And then he was gone, abandoning Nero to his anger and solitude in the now too-quiet training room.

“Fuck him.” He hissed through clenched teeth.

And although Nero was absolutely furious at his father, he was even more furious with himself.

Because despite being terrified at having almost ruined his relationship with Kyrie forever, he was even _more_ terrified at how ready he was to throw it all away. 

**Author's Note:**

> (would you believe this is my secondary account because I was so ashamed to post it on my main?)
> 
> but yeah, that ending just BEGS for a continuation, and I will do my very best to deliver.


End file.
